


Expecting the Unexpected

by gracie137



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Ginsy - Freeform, Christmas Party, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, M/M, Meddling, Mistletoe, background romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137
Summary: Draco didn't expect to find romance at Pansy's Annual Christmas party, but he didn't expect Potter to be there either.





	Expecting the Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> So, dear Lau/Leo I had a lot of fun with your prompt for Drarry arguing and realising they're under the Mistletoe and I hope you like it and have a very good Christmas!!
> 
> Thankyou to Magpie for being a fab beta <3

 

“What is _he_ doing here?” Draco hissed, resisting the urge to cross his arms, pout and stomp his foot. It was Potter. He always bought out Draco’s more childish urges.

Pansy rolled her eyes in a way that suggested she knew exactly the urges Draco was trying to resist. “He’s here because I invited him.”

Draco had been betrayed by Pansy a lot in their friendship and he’d thought he was used to it. There had been the time when they were eight and Pansy had told everyone that Draco had an imaginary friend; then the time when they were twelve and Pansy had _let it slip_ that Draco still called his mother ‘mummy’; that wasn’t even mentioning that time in fourth year that she had told everyone that those _Potter Stinks_ badges had taken Draco a week to produce, making everyone think that Draco was obsessed with Potter. And then there had been what he thought of as the _ultimate_ betrayal in eighth year when she had started shagging Ginny Weasley. However, this really was one step too far.

“And why would you do that?” Draco asked through gritted teeth.

“Because he’s friends with my girlfriend?” Pansy said slowly, using her _Draco you fucking moron_ voice that Draco really hated. “And this is _my_ Christmas party.”

“He’s really not too bad once you get to know him,” Greg put in unhelpfully from where he was helping himself to one of his Christmas cupcakes.

Draco sniffed and stuck his nose up in the air, feeling just like the eleven year old he was acting like instead of the twenty year old he was. “I don’t want to get to know him.”

“You didn’t always say that,” Blaise said snidely and Draco resisted the urge to fling one of Greg’s cakes at Blaise’s head. “In fact I remember a particularly drunken confession-” Blaise’s smile turned feral, “Oh, hi, Potter, we were just talking about-”

“Blaise!” Draco squawked, head shooting around to realise that Potter wasn’t there. The only person there was Neville, who gave Draco a strange look before wandering off to Millie - Draco would never understand how that couple had come to pass. Draco glared at Blaise and questioned all his life decisions that had led to him befriending Blaise Zabini in eighth year. “I hate you.”

Blaise smirked and popped one of the ginger biscuits into his mouth. Draco hoped he choked.

“Be nice,” Greg berated them, offering Draco a red velvet cupcake with silver snowflakes on top. Draco took it, glowered at Blaise once more for luck and stalked off to find himself some better company and perhaps one of the refilling glasses of champagne. He was going to need it if he was going to have to spend an entire night enduring Potter’s company.

Draco didn’t have anything against Gryffindors in general. Since Pansy had started shagging her, Draco had discovered he rather liked Ginny Weasley. She was sharp tongued enough that she fit in perfectly into their group and Draco liked anyone who could put Blaise in his place; also he supposed the fact Pansy was absolutely besotted with her softened Draco slightly. Draco had also discovered that he liked Hermione Granger. After a rather painful first day at Healer training where Draco had been insulted and shoved, Hermione had rounded on that moron Adams and spat that Draco had made it onto the same course they had because he was smart enough and if they were all held accountable for their childhood mistakes, they’d all be screwed. Hermione’s generally terrifying reputation had meant everyone had left Draco alone and they had discovered, when Draco wasn’t being a giant fucking arsehole, they got on well.

It was just Potter. Harry fucking Potter, who Draco had spent so long hating with everything he had. Wake up and hate Harry Potter. Go to sleep thinking about how much he hated Harry Potter. Exist to hate Harry Potter, until then in sixth year that hatred had started fading as Draco realised what he had been unwillingly signed up for. After that, seventh year with the Dark Lord living in Draco’s house and Draco truly learning what it meant to hate someone, to hate people. His feelings for Potter had been merely petty, schoolboy rivalries. And then Potter had spoken at Draco’s trial; Potter was the reason Draco wasn’t rotting in Azkaban for the tattoo on his arm.

Draco’s fingers brushed against it absent-mindedly as they always did when he thought about it. It was covered by the white shirt he was wearing, but it was still there. Soft and pink looking, raw and tender always.

So no, Draco didn’t hate Potter. Potter was just, well, _Potter_ , and Draco preferred not to have to think too much into the fact that Draco’s heart stilled when he caught those green eyes and that his breath caught when Potter laughed. So Draco avoided him at all costs. It was easier that way.

“Hello Draco,” Draco turned to find Luna smiling at him, her smile always slightly too wide for Draco’s liking.

“Hullo Luna,” he replied, leaning in and kissing her cheek in greeting.

Her smile somehow widened. “Have I told you about how that’s an ancient custom used to scare away the Flibberjams?”

“Yes,” Draco said with a smile, “Many times actually.”

Luna hummed and dived into a conversation about some other creature that Draco was at least 99% sure didn’t exist. He had heard one too many times about how Flibberjams were nasty little fairy offspring, who liked to hide in people’s mouths and prevent them from kissing anyone. Luna insisted that the best way of keeping Flibberjams away was to either kiss someone on the cheek in greeting to show the Flibberjam that they couldn’t stop you or to brush your teeth using crushed garlic. Draco was pretty sure the latter would act as a kissing preventative all on its own, the Flibberjams wouldn’t need to do anything, but it was Luna, and Draco liked her a lot really so he let her talk at him.

“Harry!”

Draco was quickly brought back to the present as Luna summoned over Potter. He glanced around the room desperately trying to figure out who he could escape to talk to that wasn’t Potter. Anyone but Potter.

Draco’s eyes latched onto Weasley and he took a deep breath; he could do it. He could just go over and start a conversation with Weasley, it would be fine. They had never had a one-on-one conversation before, but Draco was sure he would be able to manage it. Weasley was currently inspecting one of Greg’s mince pies and that would be a perfect conversation starter. Weasley loved food; Draco had picked this up in his time spent watching Potter at the Gryffindor table. Weasley had always been visible out of the corner of Draco’s eye, stuffing his mouth in a way that would have had Narcissa Malfoy weeping.

“Did you catch Harry’s latest Quidditch match, Draco?” Draco froze at the sound of Luna well-intentionally dragging him into a conversation with Potter. If it had been anyone else Draco would have presumed it was intentional, but this was Luna. Draco sent one last longing look at where Weasley was happily munching away on a mince pie before turning around to where Potter was now standing beside Luna.

Draco hated the fact that Potter had become a national Quidditch player. Draco wanted to say the prat had done it for the fame, but Draco had flown against Potter enough times to see that he just loved it. Some of Draco’s favourite memories at Hogwarts had been flying against Potter, seeing the wild smile on Potter’s face even if it had never been directed at Draco. Draco swallowed and forced the teenage crush away.

“I did, Pansy makes me watch all the Harpies games,” Draco said. Really had Potter had to choose a career that held him get so fit? The scrawny, speckled git that Draco had had an embarrassing thing for at Hogwarts was gone. Potter was now all lean muscle with broad shoulders and slim hips. Draco’s only satisfaction came from the fact Potter’s hair was still a mess and he was still a speckled git, and even those facts didn’t make him _unattractive_. No wonder every witch and wizard on the planet fancied him. “Puddlemere lost, right?” Draco asked, unable to stop the smirk curling up on his lips.

Potter just shrugged and laughed. “The Harpies chasers are pretty unstoppable.” Draco knew that; Pansy was constantly complaining about the amount of hours Ginny put into training. A crooked grin spread across Potter’s face as he met Draco’s eyes in challenge, “But I still caught the snitch.” Potter nearly always caught the snitch.

“Yes, I saw the way you nearly smashed into the spectator stand in your attempt to catch it,” Draco said dryly. “I feared for my life.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to crash, I was in complete control.” Draco hadn’t thought for a second that Potter would crash, because that would involve hurting civilians and Saint Potter would never risk it.

“You only caught it because McGregor wasn’t stupid enough to try,” Draco couldn’t help but try to goad Potter. It was just his default setting.

The easy grin on Potter’s face slipped away and his jaw tightened. “It was a legit move.”

“If you have a death wish,” Draco sniffed. He liked the way Potter’s gaze was focused entirely on him now. Potter had never been able to stop himself reacting to Draco anymore than Draco had ever been able to stop himself baiting out Potter. For Draco it had started as a desire for Potter’s attention and now it was just habit, for Potter it was just the way he was. Potter put his everything into everything he did.

“When was the last time you even flew, Malfoy?” Potter scoffed.

“A week ago for the St Mungo’s annual Christmas match,” Draco said smugly. He had been the Seeker for the Trainee team. “I won.”

“There’s no ‘I’ in team,” Potter shot back.

Draco wrinkled his nose. “Well obviously, I am aware of how to spell the word _team_ , I merely meant that I-”

“It’s a Muggle phrase, don’t worry,” Potter said, finishing off the last of his drink and grinning as it refilled itself. There was genuine, childlike glee in Potter’s smile and Draco’s breath faltered for a moment. Why couldn’t Potter be ugly?

Millie always insisted that she didn’t understand the Potter hype, but Draco didn’t understand how anyone couldn’t think Potter was attractive. Draco had been painfully aware of it since fourth year. The badges had been a cathartic way of dealing with it all.

“Do most Muggles not know how to spell?” Luna asked, big eyes blinking at Potter.

Draco couldn’t help but snort at that. Potter glared at him and Draco rolled his eyes. Only Luna could get away with asking a question like that. Draco would have been dragged down to the Ministry and questioned about whether or not he was going to try to resurrect the Dark Lord or some shit.

“I can imagine they may have more difficulty with it than us, because they don’t know how to protect themselves from Bunkjunks, which are…” Draco began to zone out, glancing over at Potter, who quirked his eyebrows in exasperation and despite himself Draco smiled.

***

Draco laughed as he watched Pansy and Ginny dancing in a spectacularly filthy manner to Celena Warbeck’s latest Christmas song. Draco was sure that Ebony Parkinson would perish on the spot if she saw the way her only daughter was grinding against a Weasley right now. Finishing off another glass of champagne Draco smiled to himself at the warm, fuzzy feeling the alcohol had left. He heard a soft huff of laughter from beside him.

“They really are something, aren’t they?” Draco said, turning to the person, faltering when he realised it was Potter.

“They really are,” Potter said, smiling at Pansy and Ginny. “I’m happy for them.”

Potter was drunk, Draco realised. Most of the party was drunk, Draco certainly was.

“Weren’t you meant to marry Ginny Weasley, become Head Auror and have three delightful babies?” Draco said, his voice lacked its usual heat and his sneer was closer to a teasing smirk. He glared at the glass of champagne in his hand, blaming it for his sudden inability to insult Potter well.

“Weren’t you meant to marry Pansy Parkinson, be a philanthropist and have one male heir to carry on the Malfoy name?” Potter said back. His voice lacked its usual bite too and he was smiling.

Draco scoffed and waved his hand dismissively in Potter’s direction. “I would never have married Pans,” he thought for a second, “no, it would have been someone like Astoria Greengrass.” Draco shuddered at the thought. It had been the one positive thing of coming out of the war;the future that had been dictated for him had been blown to smithereens. “Merlin, can you imagine?” Draco sighed, inspecting his champagne glass. He imagined he would drink a fair amount more if that was his life.

“Luckily we don’t have to,” Potter said, knocking back the rest of his champagne and setting his glass on the side. “Do you want to dance?”

Draco turned around to look for Granger, or Luna or anyone that Potter could possibly be talking to. He was the only one there. “Me?” Draco squawked, a deep blush rushing to his cheeks. It was the downside of the Malfoy paleness.

Potter shrugged. “Yeah why not, I love this song.” Draco hadn’t even noticed the song had changed. Potter always had been able to get Draco to forget everything but him.

“You’re asking _me_?” Draco said slowly.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t asking the sofa,” Potter said, raising his eyebrows as if Draco was being the bizarre one.

“But you hate me?” The words fell out of Draco’s mouth before he could stop them.

Potter cocked his head and his eyes were so horrendously bright and green that Draco’s chest hurt. “No, I don’t?”

“Well, I hate you,” Draco muttered, cringing at how unconvincing it was. He knew he didn’t hate Potter. “You don’t?” He asked after a moment's pause.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to dance if I did,” Potter said before smiling that smile that had won the Witch Weekly _Most Charming Smile_ award. Draco felt like his insides turned to mush at the sight of it. Draco put his champagne down. He had clearly drunk far too much. Potter looked at him. “Is that a yes?”

Draco laughed and took Potter’s arm, leading him over to the centre of the sitting room where everyone was dancing. “This is insane, you know that right?”

Potter grinned and started to shuffle his body in some bizarre attempt at dancing. “I know, but it’s me and you.”

“What does that mean?” Draco asked, ignoring the leering looks Blaise was shooting him from where he was grinding against Theo.

“When have we ever been anything but insane,” Potter said and Draco would give him that one. He had never felt anything normal for Potter.

***

The crisp early morning air hit Draco as he leaned against the backdoor gazing out over the backyard. It was a tangle of weeds and Pansy really ought to call in a gardener. Draco’s flat in London didn’t have a garden, but he wished it did. He missed the sprawling grounds of the Manor; he had spent hours playing in them as a child.

“Why are you hiding here?” Draco didn’t turn at the sound of Potter’s voice and continued staring out the door.

“Are you stalking me?”

“I was just wondering where you’d vanished too, wasn’t sure if you’d left.”

Draco shook his head and finally turned around. Potter’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets.

“I got too hot,” Draco said lamely. It was true, the feeling of Potter’s body pressed against his as they danced and the intensity in Potter’s eyes… It had all been too much, Draco didn’t understand where all-

“Do you want to do something sometime?”

Draco choked on his own tongue as Potter suddenly pulled him from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry?” Draco managed to get out, his eyes watering as he gazed at Potter.

Potter shifted his weight awkwardly. “You know… Me and you… Together… Just the two of us… We could go flying or grab a drink or-”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Draco spluttered.

Potter’s face broke into a crooked grin. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Why?” Draco demanded. “Is this a piss-take?”

The smile started to droop as Potter frowned at Draco. “Why the fuck would this be a piss-take?”

“Because… Because you’re you! And I’m me! And we hated each other!” Draco’s brain couldn’t seem to compete with what was going on; he certainly shouldn’t have drunk this much. “You don’t know me!”

“I’d like to get to know you,” Potter said, squaring his chin in challenge.

“Why?” Draco demanded.

“Are you really asking me why I’m asking you on a date?”

“Yes!” Draco said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Did Weasley put you up to this? No!” He pointed at Potter and narrowed his eyes. “It was Blaise,wasn’t it! Blaise the fucking snake told you about that drunken confession.”

“The drunken confession?”

“Yes, when we were talking about if we had to pick one person from school and…” Draco trailed off and narrowed his eyes at Potter. “I’m not telling you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Potter huffed, his jaw setting in a scowl. “I can’t believe you would think for a second that I would ask you out as a joke!”

“Well, I can’t think why you would ask me out for any other reason!” Draco’s voice was raising to match Potter’s tone, and he was becoming steadily aware that he had had far too much to drink.

“Do you really think I’m that much of a dickhead?”

“Yes,” Draco said automatically, the old temptation to antagonise Potter coming out.

“Fuck you, Malfoy, I came over here to ask you fucking out and you just-”

“I what?”

“If you don’t interrupt me, then maybe I can tell you!”

“Well go ahead then!”

They were both yelling at this point and Potter had stepped close enough that Draco could see faint freckles on the bridge of his nose, and his chapped, plump lips, and the fact Potter’s eyes were even more amazing when up close. They were every shade of green under the sun Draco was pretty sure, and he could easily get lost in them.

“I-”

“Are you guys aware you’re standing under Mistletoe?” Pansy’s drawl met Draco’s ears and he was forced to take back his earlier thought. _This_ was officially Pansy’s greatest betrayal.

Draco jerked backwards, gazing up at the mistletoe that hung mockingly above his head.

“Who puts mistletoe above the door?” Draco spluttered. “It’s a complete-” he never got to finish that sentence (which was probably a good thing as he had no idea where he was going with it) because Potter’s lips were brushing against his.

Draco froze, wide-eyed, and Potter started to pull back, his brows furrowed.

“I’m-” Potter started before Draco surged forward, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

He was pretty sure he heard Pansy sigh _fucking finally_ but he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care as Potter’s hands were gripping his hips tightly and Potter was kissing him. Harry fucking Potter was kissing him, Draco Malfoy, which meant that…

Draco pulled back, his eyes catching on Potter’s lips. “Yes.”

Potter frowned. “Yes?”

“Yes to a date, yes to flying or drinking or-” Draco didn’t bother to finish his own sentence as he started kissing Potter again. He didn’t care what they did on their date as long as they went on one, as long as Potter meant that he wanted one.

Draco tangled his hands in Potter’s messy hair and took back every awful thing he had ever said and or thought about Potter’s hair. It was soft and when Draco tugged on it, Potter let out a small groan that drove Draco absolutely mad.

Potter pulled Draco closer so they were pressed tightly together, and Merlin Draco could feel Potter’s Quidditch muscles. Potter’s tongue traced along Draco’s bottom lip and he opened his mouth eagerly. Kissing Potter burnt Draco’s mouth better than any firewhiskey ever could. Perhaps it was his drunken mind speaking but Draco was pretty sure he could die happy right in this very moment and -

“Is that Harry kissing Malfoy?” Came the drunken slur of Ron fucking Weasley. This had to go down as the most interrupted kiss of all time.

However, when Potter smiled into the kiss and let out a huff of laughter before continuing to kiss Draco, Draco decided he didn’t mind _that_ much.

“Yes it is,” Hermione curtly said. “Now let’s leave him to it.” Hermione always had been the smartest of the lot.

“Okay…” Weasley said, his voice becoming more distant as he was presumably dragged away by Granger. “Just wanted to check I wasn’t going mad.”

Only when they were gone did Potter pull back a fraction and press a soft kiss to Draco’s jaw. “So, yes to that date?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered before capturing Potter’s lips with his own again. “Yes to that date.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments mean the world!!!
> 
> find me on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com)


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